Ellen
by Siniver
Summary: Agamemnon has begun his quest to gain control of every Greek military force in the land and Sparta is working on early peace arrangements with Troy by sending ships of diplomats to their borders. Ellen, Achilles' sister, goes to Sparta... (More Inside)
1. Prologue

Summary: Ellen, Achilles sister, was born and raised by her mother until the age of 14. By this time, Agamemnon had already began his quest to gain control of every Greek military force in the land and Sparta was working on early peace arrangements with Troy by sending ships of diplomats to their borders. To gather good graces with his best fighter, Achilles, King Agamemnon arranges for the young and intelligent Ellen to obtain a job in Sparta under his brother's rule for a generous pay. While in Sparta, she manages to strive as a possible diplomat with her peaceful, sweet manner and excellent problem solving skills. By the age of 16, she was on a ship with four fellow diplomats destined for Troy. While in Troy, she falls for the nephew of King Priam, Atalo. Not long after, King Priam arranges their marriage. By the age of 17, she takes permanent residence in Troy with her husband. (It continues on from here, where Paris and Hector leave for Sparta and return with Helen. You know the story.)  
  
Note: Though I'm very familiar with Homer's 'Illiad', I haven't bothered to make this story overly accurate to his work. If anything, it's based more on the film. So, don't bother me about it. I did my research and I know for a fact that Ellen's situation is truthful and happened rather often (Not necessarily the marriage part, but anyway.) I hope you enjoy my story, and please don't flame me if you find it inaccurate– I've given you warning.  
  
Shouts: Thanks to Brit for helping me start this darn story. Don't ever let anyone tell you it's easy to do! (Check out her story 'Avenging Achilles' by TryHonesty)  
  
Please read and review!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Achilles, or any other character you recognize. Ellen and Atalo are my own creations and I write this piece of fiction for my own amusement, and by doing so, I am making no money, or anything good like that.  
  
Prologue:  
  
The air was dry and humid as it often was in Phtia. Great gulps of hot of air sent sand into the sky, twirling it around and dropping it once again. Tents and small shacks layered a large area in the near distance; where people young and old wandered, talked, ate and laughed, living their lives peacefully.  
  
Ellen could only watch them, dry emotion crawling around in her stomach. She sighed and straightened her shoulders, diverting her cerulean orbs to the soft sand she stood upon. Her nimble fingers dragged gently along her skirts, smoothing them out absently. Only when her brother spoke did she glance up and force a smile.  
  
'Are you sure you want to do this?'  
  
Achilles glanced at her, sinewy limbs crossed gently over his wiry chest. Sun-kissed hair dangled freely around his ears and into his strong, well- tanned features, which were softened for the occasion. A soft breeze ruffled the material his dark toga wrapping, and kicked sand into both their faces. They didn't mind, as they were both quite used to it.  
  
Ellen nodded, her fingers intermingling at the low of her back. There was a soft squint against the sudden shift of the sun and she broke the silence with her sweet, soft voice.  
  
'Yes, I am.'  
  
She glanced over her shoulder at the pair of horses who threw their heads back in anticipation, stomped their hooves and nickered in unison. A young man clad in fine armour and leather slacks awaited on the chariot, the reigns held tightly in his hands. He had an impatient glow about him, but neither sibling offered him much attention.  
  
'And you will write?'  
  
She laughed. Her feet, clad in simple brown sandals, shifted in the sand. She approached her brother and gently reached out for his masculine fingers, taking them within her smaller ones.  
  
'Yes, I promise. With the gods as my witness, I will write.'  
  
She looked up at him and tilted her head, wisps of sandy auburn hair dangling around her young features. Though he tried to hide it, she knew he was concerned for her. It saddened her to know this, and so she tried to change the subject.  
  
'Patriclus, our cousin, he arrives this afternoon does he not?'  
  
Achilles gained a knowing expression and shook his head; he knew her intentions and chuckled faintly.  
  
'Do not change the subject, young sister.'  
  
He eyed the chariot suddenly, as if sizing up the structure, the soldier whom occupied it and the horses that sat anxiously in the harnesses. He sighed, speaking in an accusatory tone to everyone in general.  
  
"Has that chariot been issued by Agamemnon? For if it has been sent by the 'gods', I will not let you ride in it.'  
  
'For Athena's sake, Achilles!'  
  
The voice was stern, yet soft. An older woman with long curls of chestnut and an old gown of seaside green with a darkened hem had approached unexpectedly from behind. She rested her hands on her hips and approached her eldest son and younger daughter.  
  
'Let your sister be. She is in the care of King Agamemnon, and soon Menelaus. No harm will come to her. I have seen it. You on the other hand...'  
  
The tone turned playful as she finished her words, glancing at Achilles with a teasing smile. She then shifted to face her daughter, Ellen, who quickly rushed to embrace her.  
  
'Mother! I had hoped you would come...'  
  
Achilles reclaimed his abandoned hand and folded it back against his chest, turning slightly to observe both his mother and sister. His dark eyes shifted over the two of them. He knew this would be the last time all three of them would be together, and a twinge of sadness sparked in his lion-like features. Nonetheless, he spoke.  
  
'Just because you've seen something, it doesn't make it true. I for one, refuse to stand by and let my sister step into potentially dangerous chariots unless I can be assured that they are safe.'  
  
He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, glancing at the impatient chariot driver once again. His attention wandered for a moment, but was soon snatched back when his mother spoke.  
  
'I am glad you care, Achilles, but you will not always be there. She must learn to take care of herself. Sparta will do her good, you will see.'  
  
She gently brushed some hair from Ellen's face and reached out to pat her son on the shoulder. An unusual silence settled around the threesome, but didn't last long.  
  
'Now – you must be going Ellen, I am sure that king Menelaus is expecting you. A priestess! I never thought I'd see the day.'  
  
Ellen grinned. She was anxious to make her family proud, especially her brother. She glanced at the chariot and then into the direction they'd travel. A sigh was then released and she turned to her mother once again.  
  
'I'll miss you so much...'  
  
She held back her tears and gently wrapped her frail arms around her mother, embracing her tightly. When she pulled away, she sniffled curtly and brushed at her eyes. A kiss was exchanged and she stalked over to her stone-faced sibling.  
  
'Are you angry with me?'  
  
He kept his eyes diverted for a moment, then glanced at her. For a moment, he said nothing and simply watched her. Then he shook his head and smiled a bit, his arms unfolding from their place against his chest and reaching out for her.  
  
Ellen simply stepped into his grasp and he pulled her into a tight clinch, smothering her against the stretch of his chest and resting his chin gently upon her head. For a moment, they remained that way. She would miss the time they often spent together, chasing down rabbits and duelling with swords. She would miss their humorous conversations and the word games they often played. Most of all, she'd miss having a sibling to grow up with. Her brother. He pulled away eventually, catching her hands within his own.  
  
'I am not angry with you, simply annoyed at your choice in profession. I never expected you to be a priestess. However, it is your life, as mother as blatantly mentioned more then once.'  
  
He glanced at his mother for a moment, then leaned down and placed a gentle kiss upon his sister's forehead, and she smiled. As she recoiled from her brother and took her place on the chariot, she glanced back at her family. She could see everything plainly; the soft flutter of her mother's hair, the sudden twitch of her brother's temple. She could see the people in their village shifting around, starting their day. There was a sigh, a smile and a gentle nod before she waved her nimble digits one last time and turned to watch her way to the boats.  
  
When the chariot had disappeared from earshot, Achilles turned to his mother sharply and narrowed his dark cerulean orbs. His fists clenched and crept back up with his arms to which he folded over his chest.  
  
'You know just as well as I that this is a plot. Agamemnon cares nothing of my sister, or our well being.'  
  
He spat angrily, the frustration and hesitation he'd been confining inside was finally released. He glared after the chariot, obviously unhappy at the arrangement.  
  
The aging woman simply bowed her head and remained neutral, shifting her feet softly in the sand.  
  
'Everything will turn out for the best, Achilles. You must have faith.' 


	2. Chapter 1

Months had passed since her arrival in Sparta. She could still remember her trip to the boats. The chariot driver hadn't spoken a word to her, nor had he offered her the slightest glance. The ride was long and the sun was bright, forcing sweat to gather on her brow and her clothing to cling uncomfortably. When they'd reached the boats at last, many people had already boarded. Panic had crept over her and she was forced to rush. When the boat was launched, she realized she'd left a few things behind on the chariot. She'd begged the captain to return, but he simply dismissed her with a wave of his plump hand and sent her below deck. She'd passed the time by thinking, reading and trying to sleep. Her nights were restless and her days cold and lonely. They arrived early on the third day. With her belongings clutched in each hand, she had stalked from the boat and followed the crowd. Sparta wasn't all sand like she had expected, nor was it as warm or humid. Gulls hovered low in the cool air that whipped from the ocean behind and peasants and servants rushed around the market place outside the kingdom. As she approached the chariot that would take her to king Menelaus, she glanced in the nearby distance, squinting against the slowly emerging sun. Not long after, she was introduced to the king of Sparta, shown to her quarters with the rest of the priestesses and offered a meal like she'd never had before. And so it was, Ellen began her training under one of the male priests to become a priestess for Sparta.  
  
---  
  
'Hurry m'lady – Oh, you must hurry!'  
  
Ellen spun around, her nimble fingers struggling behind her back to fasten the strings of her gown. She glanced at Ademia, one of the many servants for the north wing of the castle and a good friend as of recently. The young woman clad in a normal servants gown quickly dashed behind her to relieve her of her struggle. Ellen then reached up with a brush and pulled it through her sandy auburn tresses, smoothing them out and pushing them behind her shoulders save for a few rebellious strands. Ademia then moved in front of Ellen and smoothed at wrinkles and straightened her hem. Ellen snatched up her white stola from the chair and fit it around her shoulder. Ademia rearranged it, offered her a reassuring smile and pushed her towards the door.  
  
'Go! Do not keep the gods waiting.'  
  
Ellen grinned at the woman and disappeared into the elaborately decorated hallway. Her lace sandals scuffed gently against the stone floor, providing a rhythm that echoed against the walls and followed her to the stairs. She gently lifted her the hem of her gown and descended, glancing momentarily at those gathered in the great hall. She crossed the floor and left the castle. She stalked along the grass and down the cobblestone path, appearing quickly at the temple entrance. She took a deep breath and went inside. Her head then fell in respect, and her hands intermingled at the low of her back. Silence prevailed until a harsh whisper sounded from her right, forcing her to glance up suddenly.  
  
'Ellen!'  
  
She frowned and swallowed, quickly turning to face the male priest who walked swiftly in her direction. He wasn't a very handsome man, and age plagued him horribly. His hair was long, and his skin wrinkled slightly. A great frown was stuck on his lips, giving him a frustrated glow. He spoke in a husky whisper, a large book clutched in his arms.  
  
'This is your last warning! You anger the gods with this nonsense. Come, follow me.'  
  
Ellen nodded, gazing quietly into the high ceiling of the temple as she followed him up the shallow steps and towards the shrine. He knelt down, and she followed. She had learned much by this priest in the last few months. He'd taught her the proper rituals and words to speak. He'd taught her how to stand, speak and sit in the temple. He'd taught her how to worship properly, and translate signs.  
  
After moments of silence, the priest at her side broke into chorus. He began to chant, standing to full height and raising his hands above his head. Ellen glanced upward then, her hands falling together in front of her. The statue of the great god Aries stood menacingly before her, stretching up high into the ceiling clutching a large shield and a heavy sword. She bit her lip, raising a slender brow at its awkward position and goofy expression and stifled a small giggle as she always did. Someone cleared their throat from the column shadows and she quickly closed her eyes, resuming her prayer-like position.  
  
Hours soon passed and hunger started to plague her. She had managed to excuse herself from the final ritual and now walked swiftly back into the keep. As she cleared the last step of the stairs, she caught sight of a ship in the harbour. She lingered curiously, straining and squinting to see who boarded. Unfortunately, she could not catch their status and became discouraged. With a curious frown, she continued down the stone hallway.  
  
When she reached her room, her stola was instantly draped over a chair and her nimble fingers dragged gently through her auburn locks. She sunk onto the edge of her bed and leaned back, resting her palm gently on her forehead. Suddenly, there was a knock at her door. She sat up and scratched absently at her cheek, her voice spilling gently throughout the room.  
  
'Come in.'  
  
The door was pushed open and Ademia walked inside. She looked weary and tired; her fingers wrinkled and raw from constant work and her gown bleached and soiled. The young woman smiled and approached Ellen swiftly.  
  
'How did your day go, m'lady?'  
  
Ellen shook her head, shifting down a bit so that Ademia may sit beside her.  
  
'Ademia, please, just call me Ellen. Formalities are for kings and queens, not for me.'  
  
The young woman simply bowed her head and both of them smiled. Ademia then nodded and smoothed at her skirt curtly.  
  
'Sorry, Ellen.'  
  
Ellen dismissed her apology with a smile and flopped back on her bed, gazing up at the ceiling quietly.  
  
'It was a fine day. Just like any other, I'm afraid. It's a rather dull occupation, now that I think about it.'  
  
Ademia pulled her lips into a tight line and her eyes diverted downward. She flinched slightly as Ellen labelled her religious duty as dull and boring. Ellen noticed, and yet she felt no regret. Silence prevailed momentarily before another question was brought up rather suddenly.  
  
'Oh – Do you know who left on that ship?'  
  
Ademia was thankful for a change in subject and nodded her head knowingly, crossing to the large window of Ellen's room. It held a rather unlikely view of the temple, and part of the ocean was visible past the trees.  
  
'The king has been sending ships of diplomats in hopes of peace.'  
  
Ellen sat up and glanced at Ademia. She bit her lip curiously and found herself approaching the window as well.  
  
'Where are they being sent? Athens? Troy?'  
  
Ademia shrugged her shoulders and dusted idly at the stone sill of the window.  
  
'I can't be sure.'  
  
Ellen bit the inside of her cheek and squinted against a harsh breeze that blew into her bedroom. Ademia smiled at her, nodded her head and crossed the floor to take her leave. Ellen never noticed, as she was lost in thought. She leaned eagerly from her window, catching the nearby bray of a donkey and the gentle hush of the ocean waves as they hit the shore in the distance. Perhaps they were going to Troy. She thought of the city, of the rumours she'd heard, of the sandy beaches and great celebrations. For a moment, she was jealous, then envious. Only the sudden gurgle of her stomach caught her attention and signalled her need for a good lunch. With a sigh and a final glance out her window, she crossed her floor and left her bedroom to join the rest of her wing for a fancy feast. 


	3. Chapter 2

She awoke to rain early the next morning. Thunder clashed in the distance, and lightning lit up the doomed darkness of the miserable sky. Wind whipped along the empty cobblestone streets of Sparta, whistling into open windows and blowing tarps from random street carts. The restless ocean sent waves smashing viciously against the shore and the trees creaked helplessly beneath the storm. Ellen sighed, pushing a few things away from her window so they wouldn't be soaked from the rain that blew into her bedroom. She had no training this day, but she would still go to the temple to pray as she always did.  
  
She slowly dug out some clothing and shed her nightdress. After a short struggle to tie her bodice, she slid into her long bell embroidered flounced skirt and fastened a wool cloak around her shoulders. She fixed her hair into a lopsided bun and quickly applied kohl around her eyes. Satisfied with her appearance, she left her bedroom and headed down the elaborately decorated hallway once again. As she entered the great hall, however, she was interrupted.  
  
Two young men whom Ellen guessed to be soldiers, fought amongst the crowd that had gathered. They threw their fists and kicked their feet, grunting and cursing with each blow they took. They threw themselves at each other, rolling along the ground, knocking into tables, and scattering the spectators. Ellen was at a loss and searched for a way past the commotion but her way was clearly blocked. Suddenly, one of the feuding soldiers spoke.  
  
'You filth! You owe me your respect!'  
  
Another punch was thrown, then another. The other soldier ran the back of his hand across his bleeding lip and spat a wad of crimson saliva to his left.  
  
'I owe you nothing!'  
  
Ellen frowned. The battle was only growing worst and she found herself inhaling a deep breath and descending the remaining stairs. Many glanced up at her sudden movement and shifted their attention between the young woman and the angry soldiers. Ellen pushed her way through the circle of people who watched and watched the two men who continued to curse at each other.  
  
Years of living with her brother had taught her a few things. She knew when not to step into a fight, and when it was necessary to step into a fight. She also knew how to hold her ground, as she'd done it many times with her easily angered sibling. She was impatient, and when she caught sight of an opening between them, she quickly slid into the circle. She held a palm up to each man, which threw them off guard for a moment.  
  
'Gentlemen, stop!'  
  
They were bleeding, bruising and panting with aggravated tension. They did stop for a moment, running their tongues along their broken lips, gently rubbing their swollen knuckles and staring at each other intensely. As things calmed for a moment, Ellen ran her tongue gently along her lower lip and spoke softly.  
  
'Why do you feud? You are soldiers of Sparta. You are meant to fight enemies, not each other.'  
  
The soldiers glared at each other, at Ellen, at the crowd. Silence prevailed for a moment before one of them spoke.  
  
'He has no respect!'  
  
It instantly aroused a comeback from the other soldier and Ellen found herself wincing beneath the yelling that exploded after that. Suddenly, there was a great shout. It was deep, heavy, and powerful, demanding respect and attention. The soldiers, Ellen and the crowd turned to face the direction the voice had floated from. Standing on the stairs, was King Menelaus. He was dressed in a jacket with golden stitching and stylish toggles. His pants were a dark chocolate hue and his hat was tilted slightly towards his forehead.  
  
'What is the meaning of this?'  
  
Menelaus descended the stairs and the crowd parted quickly as he approached. He came up to the pair of soldiers and the young woman who stood between them. He glanced at them intently and spoke suddenly.  
  
'Well?'  
  
Ellen glanced at the soldiers expectantly, but neither said anything. She sighed and stepped forward, bowing her head gently.  
  
'Your majesty – these soldiers were feuding, but it is finished now.'  
  
King Menelaus raised a brow at her, glanced at the pair soldiers and seemed satisfied after a moment of though. He nodded then and waved his hand in dismissal. The crowd scattered to return to their affairs and each soldier walked his separate way to tend to his wounds. Ellen turned to head to the temple when she was halted suddenly.  
  
'Hold on a moment.'  
  
She turned slowly to face Menelaus who waved her back over to him. She approached him timidly and bowed her head again with only the slightest dip of her body.  
  
'Did you interrupt that fight?'  
  
For a moment, she thought she had done wrong and her mouth parted anxiously. She began to stutter her response and nodded to confirm it.  
  
'Y-Yes, I did.'  
  
'What is your name?'  
  
She blinked, rather taken back by all of this. She'd spoken to the king on few occasions since her arrival and yet he spoke to her so openly in the great hall of all places.  
  
'Ellen of Phtia, m'lord.'  
  
He squinted at her, his mind working over her introduction. There was a long pause before he spoke again.  
  
'Phtia you say?'  
  
Ellen nodded and folded her hands together in the material of her skirts.  
  
'My brother is Achilles. Your brother arranged for –'  
  
'Yes, yes. I remember.'  
  
Ellen fell silent and bowed her head. The King sighed softly and regarded her thoughtfully.  
  
'I may have use for you.'  
  
Ellen blinked and quickly looked at him. What could he possibly want her to do other then pray and worship the gods as she always had? She nodded softly and bit the inside of her cheek. With that, he left her to in a torturous curiosity and returned to his chambers. She watched him vanish and adjusted her cloak around her shoulders. Then, with a quick glance around the great hall, she dashed out into the wicked storm that continued to brew and scurried to her destination, the temple. 


	4. Chapter 3

Donna Lynn – Achilles is coming, no worries. I'm just getting Ellen set up before I get things started. I think you can expect some Achilles in chapter 6 at the latest.  
  
Thanks for the reviews guys!  
  
The week had crept by slowly. The days were long, hot and extremely dull. She was forced to watch from her window as the Spartan boys splash around the beach, building castles and rolling around in the sand. The market was busy with men and women who directed their servants around, laughed, talked and purchased overpriced items. Donkeys were braying and goats were bleating. Chickens were crowded in the cobblestone streets and children screamed and laughed as they chased each other around. Ellen couldn't leave her room, as she was hard at work studying. The remainder of her training was now in effect. Instead of the long days of listening, she was now condemned to reading and writing. She studied literature and documents as well as the religious history of Greece. A priest would often pop a question and if she failed to answer correctly, she was penalized. She knew she'd taste some freedom eventually; she had only to be patient.  
  
This evening was no different. She was stuck at her desk, quill and parchment settled in front of her. She studied by candlelight, muttering each word softly to herself over and over again. Her dark eyes shifted quickly, her concentration burning rapidly. She was restless, yet determined. She forced herself to remain focused. Only a soft knock upon her door stirred her from her struggle.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
The door was pushed open a crack and a pair of eyes peered inside. Ellen swallowed and raised her brows curiously. It was then pushed open further and a young man stepped inside. He wasn't very old, perhaps three or four years her senior. He furrowed his brows and fumbled with an envelope in his hands.  
  
'I was asked to give this to you.'  
  
Ellen settled her parchment on the desk and stood up, pulling her nightgown lightly around her slender figure. She grew excited at the sight of the envelope and quickly jumped to conclusions. With high hopes, she reached out and accepted it. She flipped it over and smoothed her hand across the wax seal. Then realization hit her clear in the forehead, forcing her lips to curl in confusion and her brows to fall.  
  
'I don't understand...'  
  
The young man looked down at his now empty palms and sighed, glancing at her with a slight tilt of his head.  
  
'I wrote this. I wrote this a month ago to my family.'  
  
Her voice broke slightly, panic dripping from each word. The young man sighed again and quickly diverted his gaze, as if fearful to meet her eye. She wet her lips softly and winced, taking his assertiveness as a sign.  
  
'You mean none have reached Phtia?'  
  
The young man nodded, gazing at her with shifty eyes. He bowed his head softly and took a step backwards towards the door.  
  
'I am sorry, m'lady.'  
  
With that, he vanished. Ellen was suddenly unable to focus. Her eyes were heavy and rapidly filling with tears. Refusing to shed a single one, she quickly dragged the cuff of her sleeve over them, ignoring the kohl that smudged upon the material. The envelope was dropped to the floor as she sunk upon the edge of her bed. She gazed at the flickering candle, which sent haunting shadows stretching along her walls. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to forget about things. She had to return to her reading, she had to focus.  
  
She sniffled suddenly and scoffed at herself. Her bare feet carried her back to her desk and she sat down, snatching up her parchment sharply and staring at it in misery. Her night would be long, and she only prayed she'd get through it.  
  
She awoke early the next morning to another knock on her door. She groaned and pulled her sheets up over her head. Then, words slightly muffled, she spoke.  
  
'Come in.'  
  
The door opened again and Ellen pulled the sheets away from her face. It was the same young man and he held another letter. With an aggravated scoff, she buried herself back under the blankets and spoke to him.  
  
'If you're here to return another let-'  
  
'No, I'm here to deliver a letter, m'lady.'  
  
Ellen sat up and tucked her blankets around her waist. She frowned, gazing at the young man with heavy, uncertain eyes. Dark bags plagued her features and her hair was tangled and untamed. She was surprised he didn't recoil in disgust for she looked anything but presentable. For a moment, she didn't believe him. He held it out to her patiently, waiting for her to take it. When she did, he waited for him to depart before opening it with a tear of the seal. She unfolded it slowly and bit her tongue, eyes shifting through the contents.  
  
Ellen, You have been summoned for diplomatic duty by the king of Sparta. Your current post shall be suspended until you've fulfilled the task at hand. Please report to the king the day you receive this for further information and instruction.  
  
Karsten,  
  
Advisor to King Menelaus  
  
Ellen blinked rapidly. She read the letter once, twice and three times. For a moment, she felt helpless. It was as if everything she'd worked for was suddenly thrown into the fire and turned to ash. She thought hard, gazing at the fancy writing that adorned the parchment. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. Very well, if this were to be her path, she'd take it without question. If she was truly meant for the task, after all, who was she to deny?  
  
That afternoon, she prepared herself for her a meeting with the king. She was nervous, but held her head high. Her steps were slow, yet held determination. As she approached the appointed room, her stomach fluttered as if she'd swallowed a dozen butterflies. A few other people stood around, shifting anxiously. Ellen halted beside them and frowned a bit. She was the youngest of the four and felt rather out of place amongst them. She was thankful for the sudden summon that followed her swift arrival.  
  
Ellen and the three men stalked into the room. It was elaborately decorated with fine furniture and monstrous tapestries. The king sat in the largest chair, adorned with golden framework and maroon cushions. To his right sat his wife, Helen. Ellen found herself staring at her. She was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen. Her eyes were heavily laced with kohl and shifted around the room with horrible tension, as if she really didn't want to be there. She wore flowers in her hair and a soft cream gown. Menelaus motioned to the other chairs, each less decorated and comfortable then his.  
  
'As you all are aware, we're negotiating peace with Troy.'  
  
Ellen felt her heart jump at the mention of Troy. He'd just confirmed her curiosity and only question. She bit her tongue and kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.  
  
'For months we've been sending ships of diplomats to their borders. As of recently, we've been notified that our attempts are not in vain. To secure the possibility of peace, I am arranging for a final load of diplomats to visit the city. I expect them to return with Trojan diplomats and the prince of Troy himself...'  
  
Menelaus fell silent and his gaze grew intense. He shifted it amongst the group in front of him and lingered momentarily over Ellen.  
  
'Or not return at all.'  
  
Silence swallowed the occupants of the room. Second thoughts and looks of anxiety spread through each person. The King paid this no heed and nodded, his plump features shifting suddenly in the chair. He waved his hand in dismissal after speaking his final words.  
  
'The ship sails at dawn.'  
  
The filed from the room and went their separate ways. Ellen considered heading to the temple to pray to Aries for success, but felt oddly drawn to the nearest window. She gazed outside and overlooked the ocean, sighing heavily. She suddenly felt homesick, for only the second time since her arrival. She missed her family and the thought of traveling further away racked her heart horribly. She had no way of informing them of her intentions either. Though she felt helpless, she felt hopeful for the new experience that lay before her. She inhaled the soft sea breeze and headed to her bedroom. She needed to gather her necessities and get some rest. She was to awake early the next morning for her trip to Troy. 


End file.
